


Rain Angel

by starbuckscully



Category: Superfiles, Supernatural, The X-Files
Genre: Destiel focused, Episode Related, F/M, Humor, M/M, Mulder/Scully established relationship, Rain King
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbuckscully/pseuds/starbuckscully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A re-imagining of The X-Files episode "Rain King" starring Dean & Castiel as the subjects of the FBI's investigation. You never know what havoc you might wreak if you bottle up your feelings for too long, especially if you're a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent who has the power to influence the weather. Thunderstorms. Floods. Flying cows. And Castiel definitely, absolutely, irrefutably does NOT *gaze* at Dean Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain Angel

“Heart shaped hail?” Scully repeats, dubious.

“At least a dozen X-Files describe similarly improbable meteorological phenomena, Scully,” Mulder replies without taking his eyes off the road. “In fact, mysterious and unexplained weather has been reported for as long as humans have recorded their histories. In ancient times, it would’ve been interpreted as an omen or a sign from the gods. Nowadays it’s a short-lived viral sensation.”

“Nowadays we have weather satellites and understand the theory of fluid dynamics,” Scully grumbles.

Mulder smiles slightly and continues “Twitter user Charlie Bradbury noticed the unusually shaped hail as she was driving through the area last month and uploaded the photos. For a few hours ‘hashtag itsraininghearts’ trended nationally.”

“You found this case on twitter,” Scully states rather than asks.

“Look at the photos in the file,” Mulder insists. He glances over to give her a convincing look then turns back to the wheel.

Scully sighs dramatically and flips through a few pages till she finds the photos. They are sepia toned and have faux scratches from some horrible ‘antique’ Instagram filter, but sure enough there they are – dozens of little ice blocks shaped like Valentines come down from the sky.

“You know, it is feasible these could have been chiseled into shape as a practical joke,” she offers.

“Feasible. But how did they fall from the sky? There’s video too. Unless they had someone dropping buckets from an airplane – and that’s pretty far to go for a practical joke.”

Scully frowns.  “I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation. Hail is formed in the convective updrafts of cumulonimbus clouds. The ice forms on a condensation nuclei such as a grain of dust and grows as additional cold vapor forms concentric rimes. It’s reasonable to conclude that a peculiarity in the chemistry of the original particles could cause asymmetric growth.”

“Reasonable,” Mulder repeats.

“It’s possible that wind sheer generated a microcirculation pattern that exposed the surface of the growing crystal to unequal periods of riming. Perhaps there was even differentiated melting to explain the cleft in the top of the sphere.”

“Possible. Perhaps.”

“Well what do _you_ think happened?” Scully finally asks in exasperation.

“Remember that case we worked with Holman Hardt?”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“Mulder, we never established a paranormal cause for those extreme weather events. As far as I’m concerned, it remains an open case.”

Mulder sends her a disbelieving look.

“All I saw was some pop-up thunderstorms in the middle of a drought. It’s not unusual for the latent heat in the Plains states to generate sufficient convective activity for a few summertime storms that are difficult to predict in advance.”

“What about the cow in my room?”

“Tornado. Also common in the Great Plains.”

“Whatever you say, Scully.”

“So are we going to start by interrogating the local weatherman?”’

“Couldn’t hurt.”

Scully rolls her eyes and shakes her head. But looking over at Mulder, she has to smile too.

~*~

“Ah you must be the Sprinkles!”

Dean looks up from examining a contraption that appears to be made out of eggshells spinning next to a thermometer on the roof of the Channel Five building. A somewhat older man in a suit is walking toward him and Cas with an attractive woman with bright red hair trailing behind him.

“I was beginning to worry we’d never make our way up here!” The man continues. “Is this the weather observatory? Thanks so much for coming out here so soon after returning from your honeymoon. I hope you had a truly romantic getaway!”

The man reaches out and shakes Dean’s hand vigorously. Cas tilts his head and looks at him with a confused expression.

“I’m not su – ” Dean starts to explain.

“Scully, I’d like to introduce you to Carl and Larry Sprinkle. Larry’s the local meteorologist and his partner here works at the station, and is also a bit of a weather aficionado, isn’t that right? The man gives Cas a knowing look that is returned with a blank expression.

“Wait, the meteorologist is named Larry _Sprinkle_??” Dean asks incredulously.

“You’re not Larry?” the strange man questions

Dean reaches into his coat pocket for his fake FBI badge. Just in time, he sees the redheaded woman put her hands on her hip and push back her long jacket to reveal a gun and a _legit_ FBI badge clipped to her belt. He drops his hand back.

“Oh, just interested citizens!” Dean exclaims and slaps Cas on the back. “I think we, uh, should get back to our visitors tour.“

He smiles awkwardly and tries to push Cas toward the way back downstairs. Just then, the door swings open and two men walk out. One is a burly fellow wearing flannel under overalls and sporting an earring in his right ear. The other is a skinny guy in tight black jeans who seems to have dumped an entire tub of pomade in his spiky hair.

“Oh, there’s the Sprinkles! Over here!”

Dean’s mouth drops open as he realizes that those were the men the FBI had mistaken them for. It was definitely _not_ like looking in the mirror! And what was that about a romantic honeymoon?

“Agents Mulder and Scully,” the woman says to the approaching couple. “And you are?”

She turns to Dean and Cas with an inquiring look. Dean opens his mouth to offer up his latest metal band alias, but Cas beats him to it.

“Castiel and Dean Winchester.”

Dean glares at Cas. He’d have to remind him later about the hazards of telling the truth.

“We were on a tour, you see, and my _friend_ here just wanted to see the thermometers and stuff because he has a big nerd hard on for weather, isn’t that right Cas?” Dean covers.

“Uhh right,” Cas replies stiffly.

“Oh, you’re a meteorology hobbiest?” the man with the gelled hair pipes up excitedly – must be Larry. Cas glances over at Dean in alarm, waiting for him to provide an out.

“Then you must love living in Lebanon,” Mulder interjects, eying them. “Lots of weird weather here lately.”

Dean had been about to come up with an excuse to duck back downstairs, but now that the FBI agent has brought up the strange weather, he’s curious. Surely they’re not here investigating the same thing?

“Oh yeah, he’s been glued in front of the laptop refreshing weatherunderground for weeks now,” Dean says with a grin. Larry and Carl give him sour looks. “Oh, and Channel Five news too, of course.”

Appeased, Larry picks up the conversation. “Frankly, I can’t think of a more exciting place to be a meteorologist. To you, Lebanon must seem small and simple, but through the eyes of meteorology – low pressure systems, storm fronts, tornado watches – Lebanon is sophisticated, complex, and, well… sexy.”

Carl waggles his eyebrows at Larry flirtingly. Scully makes a can’t-believe-this-shit face. Dean feels about the same. Mulder just nods and grins. “What can you tell us about the drought?” he asks.

“A high-pressure system is the primary culprit. There’s no evidence to suggest that anything out of the ordinary can explain our predicament.”

“Thank you,” Scully says. She turns to her partner. “Can we go now?”

“No, no. Um, what about the heart-shaped hail?”

Cas blanches. Dean tries to give him a reassuring look. It’s not like the FBI knows they’re looking into the same case or suspects anything paranormal.

“Well, that’s a more clouded issue, if you’ll excuse my pun,” Carl jumps in. Larry smiles at him affectionately then turns to the others.

“We can’t explain it,”  he says apologetically. “I’d be happy to finish your tour and show all of you our computer models.”

Dean shrugs and accepts the offer.

~*~

Later in the Men of Letters bunker, Dean plops a burger onto the plate in front of Cas.

“Hey are we still going to the con together on Friday?” he asks.

“Of course,” Cas replies. “We can’t let Charlie down.”

“Yeah – and that hot chick in the Xena outfit from last time. Damn, I hope she’s back!”

“You’re not still interested in her, are you?” Cas asks disbelievingly. “You barely met her. And besides, I think she was more interested in Charlie.”

“Well, she _was_ dressed as Xena,” Dean admits. “Maybe we should tip off Charlie to cosplay as Gabrielle.”

He chuckles and swigs some beer, then turns more melancholy.

“It’s just been so long. Since Lisa, since Cassie, since… anyone.”

“There are others who will love you more,” Cas says gently.

Dean takes a long drag to finish off his beer and changes the subject. “The real FBI! Sonofabitch! I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep in peace till they’re done poking around.”

~*~

The next morning Dean pulls the Impala into the local motel’s parking lot to assess the most recent freakish event. Sure enough, just like the police dispatch said, there's a cow-sized hole in the roof. The FBI agents from the day before are standing outside. The pretty redhead is examining the guy’s head for scratches.

“Hey Cas, ready to play weather geek?” Dean asks.

“I don’t understand,” Cas replies.

“Just act really interested about the flying hamburger so we can get some more information.”

They park the car and go over to approach Mulder and Scully. As they get close, they overhear some of the conversation.

> _I don’t think it’s a coincidence that a cow gets hurled at us just as we’re down here investigating the weather._
> 
> _Mulder, did they check you for head trauma?_
> 
> _You were there this time, Scully! You saw it! I’m telling you, that cow had our names on it._

“Agent Mulder, are you all right?” Cas asks. Dean notices the anxious look on Cas’s face. Is he getting better at lying, or is he actually worried? “I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do to make it right, I will.”

“Perhaps you can help,” Scully replies. “Mr. Winchester, would you please explain to my partner that this cow incident, was, in fact, a natural phenomenon?”

“Me?” Dean asks, surprised.

“No, I meant the other Mr. Winchester, Castiel,” she replies. Dean realizes too late that Cas’s introduction the other day had been ambiguous – another thing he’d have to remind the apprentice hunter not to do.

“Oh, um, yes,” Cas stumbles. “I believe it can best be explained with a system of partial differential equations – “

“Nevermind,” Mulder interrupts. “I’m just grateful no one was hurt.”

“You think something supernatural is going on here?” Dean asks. He wonders if it would be worth the risk to join up with these agents, or to find out what they know at least.

“Yes,” Mulder answers.

“No,” Scully says at the same time.

“Can we talk inside?” Dean asks.

~*~

Dean paces back and forth across the motel room. He doesn’t like trusting strangers, but they are at the end of their leads. And when Sam is involved, what other choice does he have?

“If we knew who was responsible, would you be able to do anything about it?”

“You mean, arrest them?” Scully asks.

“Or help them?” Mulder adds.

Dean nods.

“Possibly neither,” Mulder admits. “But if this is just an accident, we’ll do all that we can to help.”

“Okay,” Dean takes in a deep breath. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. One night some time back, we got back from a long, er, roadtrip, and I went out to the bar to pick up some company, and, well – a tornado demolished the whole block!”

Scully raises her eyes to Mulder but says nothing. Dean continues.

“And then, I had this awesome Fourth of July planned. I was going to take this cute gal out for some fireworks and fun on a picnic blanket, but it snowed six inches! In July!”

Dean notices that Cas is backing up nervously toward the door now. He probably thinks this tell-all was a bad plan. Well, too late now.

“Then three months ago, this girl I’d been talking to ran off with some guy from the phone company. As I was setting her crap out on the curb, I looked up and – you know how you can see shapes in those big fluffy clouds?”

Mulder nods. Scully smiles tightly.

“Well,” Dean continues. “I swear it looked like every cloud in that sky was a face laughing at me.”

Suddenly he feels embarrassed for having shared too much. “I mean, not that I cared or anything,” he adds quickly. “They were probably laughing with joy ‘cause I was single again.”

“Err right,” Scully says. “So you think you are causing all this?”

“What? No, no! Not me!” Dean laughs. “My brother!”

“What does your brother have to do with anything?” she asks.

“It’s just that whenever freaky shit goes down, uhhh… he’s usually involved?”

Now that Dean thinks about it, it doesn’t actually make much sense. All the events in question had coincided with his ill-fated sex life of late, and Sam wouldn’t have any reason to be interested in that. Even that bizarro hail Charlie had seen had been on Valentine’s Day. But Dean knows he’s just a regular guy – no demon blood in _him_! So why is all this weird stuff happening around him? Is it just a coincidence?

“Dean, I can tell you without a doubt that you’re not responsible for any of that weather,” Mulder assures him. “And neither is your brother.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, surprised.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. Scully, you have any doubts?”

“None!” she replies confidently.

“I really hope you’re right,” Dean says. He looks into Agent Scully’s lovely, reassuring blue eyes. “Thanks.” He squeezes her hand before he turns to leave.

~*~

“Next flight out is at ten tomorrow morning,” Scully announces as she enters their hotel room.

“Look at this, Scully,” Mulder says from the bed. He turns around his iPad to show her a newspaper article. “January 24th of this year – it rained rose petals for nearly an hour.”

“Mulder, we’re going home,” Scully says exasperatedly. “There is no case here. You told Dean yourself that his brother wasn’t controlling the weather.”

“He’s not. Neither is Dean,” Mulder agrees. “But guess what else happened on January 24th?”

“What?”

“Dean’s birthday.”

“But you just said – ”

“I know. It’s Castiel who is manufacturing the weather. Did you see how relieved he was that we weren’t injured by the airborne Holstein? There’s something very odd about that guy, if he even is a guy.”

“The quiet one? What, now you think he’s an alien?”

Mulder shrugs. “There’s something different. You know, most people will admit that the weather plays a significant role in the way they feel, right? What if someone who had other, let’s say, abilities – could work it the other way around? What if the weather is somehow an expression of Castiel’s feelings – or, or better still – the feelings that he’s not expressing?”

Scully gives Mulder a look. He would have to do better than that to convince her.

~*~

In his room back in the bunker, Cas tries to project confidence in his voice.

“I’ve tried to say this a thousand times… tried to express the… fire that burns inside this… vessel. Dean, you’re the reason I keep coming back all these years.”

Someone knocks on the bedroom door.

“I wake up each day knowing…”

The knocking continues, louder.

Cas turns away from the mirror and goes to answer the door.

“Hey Cas,” Dean says when Cas finally opens it. “Up late?”

“De–Dean – “ Cas stammers. “Yes, um... I was just thinking about you. I’m looking forward to the con tomorrow night.”

“Me too,” Dean replies with a broad smile.

“You’re in a good mood?” Cas asks suspiciously.

“Well, I am, Cas, and it’s all because of you. I wanted to let you know that I’ve been thinking about what you said about girls yesterday and I realized that you were right.”

“I was?”

“Yeah, you were, and I am so over all those floozies. I realized that I’ve been chasing the wrong kind of person. I need someone I can talk to. I need someone I can depend on.”

Cas’s face lights up. “I can’t tell you what that means to me!” he exclaims.

“Cas, I want to ask you something and I hope that we can keep it between us for the time being. Don’t tell Sam, ‘kay?”

“Of course, Dean, anything.”

“Well, what do you think of Agent Scully?”

Outside the bunker, thunder crashes.

~*~

Cas is standing on the sidewalk and glaring angrily at the darkening sky when Mulder approaches him the next afternoon.

“Hey, Castiel,” he says.

“Agent Mulder,” he replies evenly.

“I’ve come to say goodbye,” he says. “But I wanted to tell you to get some help before you kill somebody.”

“Help? What are you talking about?” Cas turns away from the sky and gives Mulder his full attention.

“You know what I’m talking about. You’re not just a regular guy. There’s something else about you. You’re the person who’s been affecting the weather.”

Cas is surprised. He tries to think how to deflect without outright lying. “Agent Mulder, if I could control the weather, don’t you think I would use it for good? Deflect hurricanes away from cities? Make it rain to end droughts?”

“I don’t think it works that way. I don’t think you do it on purpose. I think you just bottle up your emotions – anger, grief, or love, or whatever – and then, as a response, it rains or hails, or there’s a flying cow.”

“That poor animal,” Cas mutters.

“And whatever it is, you got to let it out,” Mulder concludes.

“I can’t,” Cas says sadly.

“Yeah, you can.” Mulder puts an arm on Cas’s shoulder and starts walking with him down the street.

“It’s Dean, isn’t it? You love him. You’ve always loved him. That, uh, tornado at the bar – that was you, wasn’t it?”

Cas sighs and stops walking, slumping over slightly. “I, uh, accidentally stumbled upon him and a woman in the Impala… in flagrante delicto. And next thing you know…”

“And you’ve never told him the way you feel?” Mulder asks gently.

“How can a hammer tell a hero that he loves him?” he asks softly.

“Well, you better tell him or you’re going to kill somebody.” Mulder pats him on the shoulder one more time and turns to go.

“Wait, you’ve got to help me,” Cas pleads.

“I’ve got a plane to catch,” Mulder replies. From inside his coat pocket, his cell phone rings and he reaches in and brings it up to his ear.

> _Mulder_.
> 
> _Mulder, it’s me._
> 
> _I’m on my way._
> 
> _I’m not so sure. Have you looked outside lately? It’s pea soup. Our plane can’t take off until after this fog lifts._

Suddenly a thick fog rolls in from the north.

“Castiel!”

> _Castiel?_
> 
> _Yeah… he wants advice. Dating advice._
> 
> _From whom?_
> 
> _Yours truly._
> 
> _…_
> 
> _…_
> 
> _…_
> 
> _Hello? Hey, Scully. Scully, you there?_
> 
> _I heard you. Mulder, when was the last time you went on a date with anyone other than me? For that matter, when was the last time you took me on a real, actual date?_
> 
> _I will talk to you later!_

In the rental car at the airport, Scully hangs up and mutters to herself. “The blind leading the blind.”

~*~

“You spend every day with Agent Scully and it took you _seven years_?” Cas asks, his head tilted to the side, trying to comprehend.

Mulder gives a little shrug to acknowledge the point. “This is about you, Cas,” he says. He puts his arm around Cas’s shoulders and leads him down the street toward the parked Impala. “You and Dean. I’ve seen how you two gaze at one another.”

“So, according to your theory, I walk over there, tell him I love him, and the extreme weather events will end?” Cas asks.

Mulder flips and straightens Cas’s backwards tie. “Just tell him how you feel.”

Cas strands up tall, determined. He takes a few steps toward Dean and the car, then stops and turns back.

“And Mulder, I do not _gaze_ at Dean.”

Mulder just shakes his head, remembering how he used to kid himself the same way, poor fool.

Cas gets into the passenger side of the car.

“Hey,” Dean says. He cranks up the engine.

“Can we talk?” Cas asks.

“Of course,” Dean says absently. “Oh hey, check out the new schedule for the con tonight – it’s on the dash there.”

“Oh uh, right, the convention,” Cas says. “We can talk later.”

“Cas, what is it?” Dean says, turning away from looking at the road for what is surely too long to be safe.

Cas stares back at him.

“I… I need you.”

Dean half smiles and glances back at the road for a second. “I need you too, Cas. We’re family. What’s wrong?”

~*~

Mulder and Scully are standing outside the convention center when Dean and Cas approach.

As Dean shuffles through some papers for their registration info, Mulder pulls Cas aside.

“You did it!” he exclaims, grinning.

“No, you did it,” Cas replies glumly.

“What are you talking about?” Mulder asks.

“Coming here, you and Agent Scully. He said that being around an elegant, mature lady like Scully made him think about settling down with the right woman.”

Mulder is shocked. He looks back over his shoulder and sees that Dean is chatting up Scully now. He’s laying it on real heavy by the look of it. Trying to shore up his machismo? Make a last ditch effort at heterosexuality? Scully has on one of her trademark ‘not impressed’ faces.

Suddenly there’s a commotion as someone takes off running toward them. In the background a woman shrieks, “He’s got my purse!” Before anyone else reacts, Scully intercepts the runner and levels him to the ground in one quick motion. She puts a high heeled foot on his back and yells, “FBI, don’t move!”

The pickpocket drops the purse. “FBI? Holy shit, it was just a few bucks!”

Scully leans down to cuff the bandit, and when she stands up again, Dean takes her by surprise and leans her back in a romantic swoop.

“That was so awesome,” he breathes. “And hot!”

Before she can say anything, he gives her a passionate kiss.

“What the hell are you doing?” she yells as soon as she can push him off of her.

Mulder and Cas are standing off to the side with mouths hanging open. Mulder looks more amused than anything else. Cas looks miserable.

“What?’ Dean asks innocently. “Don’t you like me?”

“No,” she replies without missing a beat. “And anyways, I’m with Agent Mulder.” She glowers at him and stalks back over to Mulder.

“A little help here?” the cuffed thief pipes up, still lying prone on the ground.

Lightning strikes nearby and a deafening thunderclap follows immediately.

“Looks like our plane will be delayed a bit longer,” Mulder observes.

“Well, let’s drop this man off with the local authorities,” Scully says. She sends another glare in Dean’s direction.

“Uhh, I guess we’ll go to the con now,” he says, and backs away sheepishly. “C’mon, Cas!”

~*~

“Seven inches in the past six hours,” Scully says, reading from her phone. “The National Weather Service has issued a flash flood warning for the county. Mulder, are you sure he’s still here?”

“If Dean’s here, he’ll be here too.”

Scully spots Cas a few booths over and pulls him aside.

“Come on, Castiel, now make it stop,” Mulder tells him.

“I can’t,” Cas insists. Thunder claps outside. The lights flicker.

Dean walks up and joins them.

“Look who’s still here,” Dean says. “Old friends… and new ones.” He winks at Scully.

“Want to get a picture with me and John Barrowman?” Dean asks her.

“Castiel was just telling us that he, uh, wanted a picture with Mr. Barrowman,” Mulder interrupts.

“You were?” Dean looks at Cas curiously.

“Yes, he was,” Scully says for him.

“Uh, okay,” Dean says. He nods for Cas to follow him and walks toward the photo line.

“Tell him, Castiel!” Mulder calls after them.

As they’re waiting in line, Dean notices that Cas is being unusually quiet. “What was that Agent Mulder said? Tell me what?” he asks.

“Nothing important,” Cas replies.

“Hey, we tell each other everything, don’t we? No secrets anymore?” Dean asks, genuinely concerned now.

“Well, um…” Cas starts awkwardly. “When we were in the car this afternoon… when I said that…”

“When you said you need me,” Dean finishes for him.

“What I meant to say…” Cas struggles to find the words. “What I wanted you to understand… is that I love you. That I’ve loved you for years, Dean.”

From across the convention hall, Mulder and Scully watch Dean and Cas. They sidestep out of the way of a kid in a Deadpool costume chasing after a portly Spiderman. A blond girl in a striped sweater makes out with a dark haired girl in blue scarf in front of them. They move to get a better view and see Dean hurrying away now, leaving Cas alone in the line.

“I’ll build the ark, you gather the animals,” Mulder quips.

Scully breaks off after Dean.

“I was kidding!”

Scully catches up with Dean at a side exit. He’s looking through the glass doors, apparently weighing whether it’s worth it to run out into the downpour.

“Dean…” she begins.

“Sorry about earlier,” he says quickly. “I’m not usually that, um, aggressive. I don’t know what got into me.”

Scully nods, acknowledging the apology.

“Dean, my partner has a theory,” she continues. “And even though I don’t share his belief, I feel that, given the circumstances, you should hear his theory, because it involves you and Castiel. Agent Mulder believes that this storm, all the bizarre weather conditions that have plagued you recently are – are caused by Castiel. Specifically, that his emotions are somehow manifesting themselves in the weather, and Agent Mulder believes that Castiel is, um, unwittingly destroying this town because of his unspoken love for you.”

“You love him, don’t you?” Dean asks.

“What?”

“Agent Mulder,” Dean answers.

“Oh. Oh, yes, I do,” Scully answers honestly. “But it took me years to realize it, Dean. I didn’t see what I had right in front of me.”

Dean sighs and slumps against the doorframe. “I just never thought of Cas that way, you know. He’s my best friend. And he’s a _guy_ …”

“Well, it seems to me that the best relationships – the ones that last – are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship.” Scully says thoughtfully. “You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. Like a switch has been flicked somewhere. And the person who was just a friend is suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with."

Dean looks at her for a long moment and says nothing. Finally he nods and heads back toward the main hall.

~*~

Dean walks up to where Cas is sitting alone on some steps with his head in his hands.

“Is it true?” he asks. “That you’ve been making the weather? Because of me? The tornado at the bar, the snow in July?”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas says morosely.

Dean sits down next to me.

“The heart-shaped hail? Even this rain?” he asks.

“I used to be able to control the elements,” Cas replies. “Now I’m helpless.”

“Because you love me?” Dean asks softly.

“Because… I love you,” Cas admits. He looks up at Dean sadly then lowers his head again.

Dean lays a hand on Cas’s arm.

“That is the _dumbest_ thing I have ever heard,” Dean says with a soft laugh.

Cas looks up at him, hurt.

Dean puts his other hand behind Cas’s head and pulls him forward into a passionate kiss.

Suddenly the wind and rain desist. When they break apart, Cas looks up breathlessly at Dean. Dean blushes a little and bites his lip, then leans back in to kiss Cas some more.

Across the hall, Mulder and Scully look at one another affectionately, remembering another time. They take one another’s hands and exit the building into a beautiful, clear and starry night.

~*~

Some months later, Cas climbs into the front of the Impala next to Dean. Dean cranks the engine and the radio comes on.

> _And now for your local forecast! I can’t imagine a more beautiful day than today! High around 70 and blue skies all morning and afternoon!_

“Great day to go hunting” Dean comments with a smirk. Cas smiles at him affectionately. Dean leans over to give him a quick peck on the lips, then turns back and puts the car in drive.

Cas rolls down the window and lets the cool breeze wash over him. He smiles into the sunlight. Yes, he couldn’t imagine a more beautiful day.


End file.
